


Colorado On My Mind

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beta Derek Hale, Case Fic, Future Fic, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Kitsune Kira, M/M, POV Stiles, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Stiles and Kira somehow end up as freelance supernatural badasses. A job in Colorado brings a blast from the past, and suddenly Stiles needs to decide whether that past should be part of his future.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Rubyredhoodling](http://rubyredhoodling.tumblr.com/). <3
> 
> Unbetaed but thoroughly edited.

It's kind of amazing to watch Kira work. After leaving Beacon Hills to find herself – or to escape the hellhole, Stiles isn't sure – quite a few years have passed, and she's spent them well. As Stiles keeps up a magical barrier, keeping the vermin of the day from skittering off, Kira darts around, faster than the human eye can fathom, and chops them down before the nest of whatever-the-hell can even snap their crooked teeth at her heels. She's gotten incredibly badass, and Stiles is totally reaping the benefits of that now.

 

”Ugh, I hate amateur spell-work,” Stiles groans as soon as the last critter is chopped in half, and he can drop the bubble. ”Seriously, people could at least read a book or two before getting adventurous. You don't summon _anything_ without a containment circle!”

 

Kira wipes off her katana and nudges a critter with her boot. ”You sure that's all of them?”

 

“Should be, yeah. No more pings on the map,” Stiles confirms, checking his crystal again, just in case. “Yup, we're good.”

 

”Okay, then. Time for the glamorous part of the job,” Kira says, blowing out a breath through pursed lips before pulling on gloves to stack the bodies up for burning.

 

Stiles pulls on his own gloves and gets started too. “Livin' the high life, sweet cheeks,” he tells Kira with a wink, and she grins at him.

 

“It's all champagne and caviar. Mmm. Caviar. I'm hungry.”

 

Resisting the urge to gag from the thought of food while surrounded by the stink of sulfur and bitter blood, Stiles tosses half a corpse onto the pile. “Not to worry, my lady, I got you pork rinds for your post-combat munchies.”

 

“My hero!” Kira titters, and they keep goofing around until the forest clearing is free of hellspawn. They burn the critters, and once the last cinders have been extinguished they head back to their Explorer, parked back at the entrance to the forest trail.

 

”I still miss Roscoe,” Stiles sighs as he packs his stuff away in the trunk, and digs out the snacks for Kira.

 

”You say that all the time,” she says with an eye-roll as she snatches the bag from his hand and gets into the passenger seat.

 

”It's _true_ all the time.”

 

”It _bores_ me all the time.”

 

Stiles glares at her as he gets behind the wheel. ”You used to be so cute, what happened?”

 

”A _lot_ of crap,” she tells her bag of pork rinds, and pointedly stuffs her mouth full. Stiles can take the hint.

 

”Good point,” he concedes, and drives them back towards town to collect their payment.

 

There's a surprising amount of work to be had for a fully trained spark and a badass kitsune. Since teaming up and getting known for providing certain services for a price, they've been called in for everything from territory negotiations and boundary wardings to exorcising spirits and slaying goddamn giants, including aiding in an impromptu birthing of a pair of naga twins. It's been kind of a wild ride. And if Stiles is being completely honest, Kira is pretty much the last person he expected to set up shop with, the few times he considered what his future might be like. But Kira was the one who showed up out of the blue, and he can't say he's unhappy about that.

 

”Where to next?” she asks as soon as they've concluded their business, and Stiles bites down on his groan. She's always so eager to move on to the next thing, which is good for business, but it's starting to wear Stiles down a little. He could use a vacation, truth be told. Damn supernaturals and their endless stamina.

 

”Colorado. Just got a call from a wolf pack, of all things. Someone or something has been kidnapping and killing shifters, and the alpha of the area hasn't had any luck handling it, so she called us. A _wolf pack_. Brings back memories, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Kira agrees, somewhat subdued. Not all the memories are good after all, and Stiles changes the subject as he heads onto the freeway.

 

Alpha Merril is a typical alpha werewolf in every way. Gorgeous, brimming with power and confidence, and flashing her eyes at them as a matter of course the minute they're shown into her study. That's okay, though, she's doing what she's supposed to do with any powerful entities being allowed into her territory.

 

Her pack is pretty big, fourteen people strong, but several of them are children, and while the adults are a decent mix of shifters, the pack is still lacking certain things. Like an emissary. Which is where skills like Stiles' become important.

 

“So, what you're saying is that you've got nothing?” Stiles asks after the initial explanation, trying his best not to sound like an asshole, and probably failing a little bit. She seems exasperated rather than offended, though, and shakes her head in defeat.

 

“All we know is that it's fast, and that it knows how to cover its tracks. Most likely by magical means. Any and all scent seems to fade in a matter of minutes, and even our best trackers have come up empty. And so far it's only taken solitary shifters, but I feel it's only a matter of time before it gets bolder and starts on bigger game. Like someone from my pack.”

 

“I'd like to talk to your trackers, if it's okay with you. It might help me get a sense of where to start looking.”

 

“By all means,” Alpha Merril says, and turns to her second; a tiny, elderly lady who looks like a librarian but could probably rip Stiles to shreds in the blink of an eye. “Phyllis, would you mind getting Arthur and Derek?”

 

As she leaves the room, Stiles can't help but snort and give Kira a look, and she returns it with a grin.

 

“What's so amusing?” Merril asks.

 

“Oh, it's just... we knew a wolf named Derek once. He was... an interesting guy.”

 

“Kinda grumpy,” Kira adds. “But really sweet, too!”

 

“To _you_ , maybe! All _I_ ever got was abuse and sass!” Stiles argues without heat, because, yeah, arguing was a whole thing with them, but over time it did develop sort of a fondness to it. Before Derek finally left Beacon Hills for good Stiles would have actually ventured to call them friends. “And yet, I still kinda miss the guy.”

 

He's barely finished the sentence before the door opens and Phyllis returns with two men on her heels. One is a reedy, freckled guy who doesn't look a day over eighteen, and gives them a pleasant nod, and behind him...

 

“Oh, my god, _Derek_!” Kira squeals, and throws herself at him in the way that only she can get away with. Stiles is stuck to the floor. He wasn't lying, he _has_ kinda missed Derek, but seeing him like this, out of nowhere... it's a shock to the system he has no idea how to deal with. So he watches Kira hug him and ask him how he's been. He watches Derek smile, make small talk and explain to Alpha Merril how they go way back. And he watches Derek cast him glances all the while, sending him a cautious smile which quickly dies, because Stiles doesn't know how to react to it, so he doesn't.

 

“Good to see you, Stiles,” Derek says eventually, once Kira has released him, and Stiles manages a nod.

 

“Yeah. Hey. Small world, huh?”

 

Suddenly you could hear a pin drop, and Stiles fervently wishes he was literally anywhere but in this room full of supernatural creatures who are all shamelessly watching what is no doubt a highly entertaining reunion. Derek looks incredibly uncomfortable, and Stiles can relate. He feels like he can't decide what he wants to do more; hug Derek or punch him, if nothing else just out of habit.

 

“We'll catch up later, okay?” Stiles says finally, and Derek lets out a breath. Of relief or frustration, Stiles isn't entirely sure. He's lost his keen sense of Derek's micro-expressions, which he used to rely on so heavily because getting decent information out of him was so difficult that analogies about blood and stones came to mind.

 

“Sure,” Derek says, and Stiles takes the reigns immediately, guiding the conversation back to business matters. Kira gives him an odd look, but Stiles waves her off. He knows he's being weird about it, but he doesn't know how the hell he even feels, and he's so much not in the mood to try and puzzle out his deeper emotions in the middle of a case. And especially not in front of a bunch of strangers.

 

It's a strangely familiar scenario, though, listening to Derek detailing how he and the younger beta Arthur had attempted to track the kidnappers several times, only to come up short time and time again. Derek's way of delivering information is the same as always, concise and thorough, appealing hugely to Stiles' professionalism, and it's almost like they're back in Beacon Hills, looking for Erica and Boyd, tracking the Alpha pack and hitting one dead end after another. Almost.

 

“I'm sorry I can't offer you more,” Derek says, and something about the way his eyes seek out Stiles' as he says it makes it feel like he means more than just the case.

 

“No, it's okay, I can work with this.” Stiles jots down a few more notes, and grins at Kira. “Time for you to do push-ups or something while I get to work.”

 

Kira rolls her eyes at him, but it's fond, because this is their favorite banter. “Right, I'll go polish my katana.” It's mostly code for going to find someone in the pack to train with, because even though she's definitely smart enough to be able to help with the research and planning, she generally chooses not to. They both know she's worth more in battle, and she has a talent of getting people to like her, which makes cooperation a lot easier. And it's something Stiles stinks at. So he does the brainy stuff, and she does the glad-handing and the lion's share of the wet-work. It works for them.

 

Stiles is set up in a guest room, and wastes no time hitting the books. To his surprise, though, he's barely been there an hour before Derek arrives, looking weirdly hesitant and determined at the same time. Either that, or Stiles has completely lost his read on Derek.

 

“Come to check up on me already?” Stiles asks, and Derek grimaces.

 

“No. I came to... you asked if we could catch up later. It's later now.”

 

Well, he's not wrong, but it's a whole new world for Stiles to not have to drag every social interaction out of him with pliers. Putting a post-it into the page he's on, Stiles closes the book on the desk, and gives Derek his full attention. “Okay. Let's do this now, then. How've you been?”

 

Derek shrugs, and sits down on the bed. “Good. I guess. You?”

 

The default _same_ dies on Stiles' lips, because it's so surreal. He and Derek were never like this. Polite and stiff, doing awkward small talk. They might have argued a lot, but at least they always went straight to the heart of the matter. This tip-toeing around things feels all wrong.

 

“Did you know I was coming?” Stiles asks instead, and Derek fidgets.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you didn't call?”

 

“I was afraid if I did you wouldn't come.”

 

“Why?”

 

Derek shrugs again. “Because... I dunno. We didn't exactly part on the best terms. I figured you might be... offended to hear from me after all these years, only for me to ask you for help.”

 

“And you think I'd let people die rather than come help you? Jeez, what kind of monster do you think I am?” Stiles asks, a sour taste in his mouth. Sure, he and Derek were never close, but he'd thought Derek had at least some faith in Stiles' moral fiber. After everything...

 

“No! I didn't think that. I just... didn't want you to send someone else. I... wanted to see you,” Derek says, low and careful, like the words are a loaded gun. But maybe that's how emotions always feel for him. Stiles wouldn't be the least bit surprised, considering the kind of life Derek's had.

 

”...oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Silence falls, thick and heavy, while Stiles mulls things over. Derek picks at the bedspread and waits with a level of patience that is both new and familiar at the same time. He knows how to wait. He's great at it, actually. But back in his alpha days everyone was dying, and he simply didn't have the luxury. So Stiles knows he can do it, but seeing it is odd.

 

And yeah, there's an issue right now, but no one Derek cares about are in any immediate danger, and he's... calm. He's obviously confident in the abilities of his pack and his alpha to keep everyone safe. It's not his job anymore, and Stiles feels abruptly and acutely happy for him.

 

“You think you could scrounge us up a cup of coffee or something?” he asks, and Derek looks up with surprise. “I need to keep working, but... you could hang out and we could, you know. Catch up. For real,” Stiles offers, and it's like magic how Derek's shoulders unclench, and a tiny smile makes a home on his face.

 

“Okay. Sure. We can do that.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles and Kira work with the pack for a little under a week. Kira trains with them and goes with Derek and Arthur for several more tracking attempts, and Stiles works on putting together whatever clues they can find. All the while, Derek sort of hangs around, completely unsubtle in his hovering, and Stiles would have assumed at any other time that he was there because he doesn't trust Stiles to do things right. But things are different now. They're both different, and Stiles is both surprised and relieved to realize he enjoys Derek's company just for what it is. They never had the time or the luxury, or even the peace of mind, to get to that point back in Beacon Hills, though Stiles has to admit that at least for his own part he'd hoped even back then that they'd eventually get closer.

 

It seems to be happening all on its own, now. Now that Derek is safe and settled in a strong pack, and Stiles is older and stronger and more confident. It's strange, but also delightful, to watch Derek go loose and pleased when his alpha scent marks him, brushing her hand across the back of his neck with an ease of habit and assurance of her welcome that makes Stiles gape the first time he sees it. And it's pure and beautiful to watch Derek roughhouse with the children of the pack, being gentle and playfully ruthless in turns, beaming with joy as he lets the smaller ones use him as a jungle gym. The other betas adore him, greet him like family, and treat him like a decent human being, which is something Stiles feels Derek's been sorely lacking in life so far. In fact, the whole pack is full of pleasant people, and Stiles can see why Derek feels so at ease here.

 

It feels like it should break Stiles' brain a little to see Derek like this, but it feels right, in a way nothing in Beacon Hills ever did. Who knows how Derek even got here, but Stiles feels ridiculously happy for him that he did.

 

For his own part, Derek makes his intentions blatant in a way he never did before. Maybe never knew how. He wants to spend time with Stiles, and to a lesser extent Kira, and doesn't waste a single opportunity to show it, so Stiles lets himself welcome it.

 

Plus, it's hard not to enjoy that Derek lights up every time he sees Stiles, especially considering how it used to be cause for anything from annoyance to distress for Derek to clap eyes on him. They've both come so far.

 

Stiles finally finds a useful clue to the case, and immediately goes to investigate further. Kira comes along, of course, and to no one's surprise, Derek joins in too. Alpha Merril insists that two more betas come along, and while Stiles is fairly confident he's not walking into anything perilous, it's her territory, and she's paying him, so he's willing to accept it. Also, the betas she sends along are were-tigers, and he'd be lying if he wasn't a little bit curious about them.

 

“Of course it's a fucking _cult_ ,” Stiles huffs, as he investigates the clumsy sigils and wards in the abandoned shop front that was obviously home to the group at some point. But the dust lies thick on everything, and from what Derek and the other betas can sense, there's been no one here in months. “You guys only smell humans, though, right? Magic users, but no supers?”

 

“Nothing. But considering it says _shifter scum_ over here in magic marker, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say they wouldn't exactly be welcome here, anyway,” one of the tigers inform him, nudging his sister to come take a look too. They're a nice but also bitingly sassy sibling pair, and Stiles likes them a lot.

 

“Yeah, there's a lot over here about protection from the two-faced monsters. Not that these are actual wards, but... the intent is pretty clear. Only question now is where they moved from here,” Stiles ponders, and Derek comes up next to him to smell the paint smears on the wall.

 

“This is blood,” he says, and Stiles yanks his hand off the wall.

 

“Oh, _gross_. Ugh, I _hate_ amateurs.”

 

“They probably thought it would make the sigils magical.”

 

“Morons,” Stiles groans, and tries not to lean into Derek. But he's standing very close, and he smells amazing. Kita totally catches him at it, and he sticks his tongue out at her.

 

“Our luck,” Derek says, apparently without a clue that Stiles is being mocked behind his back. “I can follow a blood trail.”

 

“Even this old?” Stiles asks, impressed.

 

The tiger siblings amble up to him and nod in sync in an almost creepy way. “Dude, yeah,” the sister says. “Derek isn't our best tracker for nothing. Hales, man. Legen- wait for it- dairy.”

 

Derek looks a little pink in the ears, and Stiles has to fight really hard not to coo at him, because that's adorable.

 

“All right, then,” Stiles says. “Guess the next step is to track these fuckers down.”

 

It turns out to be fairly easy with the combined efforts of Stiles' tracking spells and Derek's nose. Between them it only takes another four days to find their way to an old cannery, now the home of _The Alliance Against Two-Faces_. An anti-shifter cult of scared humans, a few rogue hunters, and one semi-decent magic user. Stiles has met pre-schoolers with better naming skills, though. But despite the ridiculous name, they are in fact killing people and are not to be taken lightly. So Stiles is determined to plan their strike thoroughly, hopefully well enough to ensure no one gets hurt.

 

He buries himself in the books again, prepping magic and making protective charms against everything he can think of, and he kinda forgets to eat and sleep. It's normal for him, though. What isn't normal is Derek sliding a sandwich onto the desk for him, instead of Kira cuffing him on the back of the head, or herding him to bed or into the shower.

 

“Thanks, honey,” Stiles says with a wink, because humor is one of his main responses to the unexpected, and Derek damn near squirms, which is more entertainment than Stiles has had in months. So he keeps doing it.

 

It's fun right up until the moment Derek set down a cup of coffee a few days later, leaning over Stiles' shoulder to deliver it, and responds to Stiles' joking appreciation by dragging his nose across the shell of Stiles' ear and whispering “ _you're welcome_.”

 

Yeah, joke's definitely over.

 

But now's not the time, the cult is getting restless, and it's only a matter of time before they move on to another victim, so Stiles tells his dick to just calm the fuck down, and gets back to planning.

 

Kira keeps grinning at him, though, and Stiles just rolls his eyes at her, because whatever her overactive imagination thinks he and Derek are doing, it's definitely wrong. Not that Stiles doesn't _want_ to be doing whatever Kira is imagining, but... time.

 

However, he finds himself pausing every so often to wonder. Wonder if maybe... maybe...

 

At one point he sort of wakes up from a half-doze, realizing he's been sleepily looking up whether the abandoned shop they investigated is for sale. It is. At a ridiculously low price, which makes sense, considering. But Stiles shuts down the tab immediately. He obviously needs sleep more badly than he'd thought.

 

After roughly three weeks in Colorado, they finally have an attack plan. It's simple enough, and if all goes well, it shouldn't even take long. For the first time since Stiles and Kira arrived, Derek looks grim, and Stiles feels bad putting him through this. But any suggestion for him to sit this one out dies on Stiles' tongue, because they've been here before. He knows the answer already, and he's choosing to respect Derek enough to let him make that choice on his own.

 

He accepts a position as backup readily enough, though, which leaves Stiles a little surprised. But everyone in the pack have different skills, and Derek is the perfect support; a well-rounded wolf with some combat skills, but better at observation and keeping track of the bigger picture. The tiger siblings head the assault team with the alpha, Kira and a couple of other betas, and another three join Derek and Stiles as backup.

 

“You ready for this?” Stiles asks Derek as the teams move in on the cult, darkness falling around them, casting shadows and concealing them. Derek's jaw is ticking, and Stiles gets it. As used to this as he is these days, he still gets the sucking feeling in his gut every time he has to watch Kira walk into danger, even as he's right there on her heels. The risk of losing yet another loved on is ever-present, and it never stops being terrifying.

 

Derek nods, rolling his shoulders under his jacket. “Yeah. It's a good plan. It'll work.” He turns his eyes to Stiles, and even though he's not flashing them, light reflects in them in a way that makes Stiles' breath catch. “I trust you.”

 

And isn't that just the fucking kicker. Stiles damn near forgets what he's supposed to be doing in the face of that. But he's ready by the time everyone is in position, and one quick ready-check later, all hell breaks loose.

 

The plan goes well. Not quite without a hitch, and it takes a little more effort than expected, because Stiles had the bad luck of picking a night where the cult had obviously been planning their next kidnapping. So they'd been massively armed and ready for a conflict, and by the time the whole cult is neutralized, Derek's pack is a little worse for wear. But everyone is alive.

 

The tigers are checking for stragglers, while Derek restlessly goes from one injured pack member to the next, checking their wounds, and rubbing his hands on them, like he's afraid they'll vanish into thin air if he can't touch them and leave his scent on them. They mark him right back, though, welcoming the contact, and Stiles feels an unexpected ache in his chest. Because he wants that. He wants to be part of something like that. He wants to be something Derek worries over.

 

“Lemme guess,” Kira says, startling him as she plops down into a squat next to him. “You're not coming with me once this is over, are you?”

 

He hadn't actually given it any conscious thought, but the idea of leaving actually feels distressing to him, and just then Derek turns away from a pack member to give Stiles a small, grateful smile. Yeah, Stiles isn't going anywhere.

 

“No. No, I guess I'm not,” Stiles admits, and smiles back at Derek.

 

Maybe it's time for him to settle down somewhere. Might as well be here. Maybe he'll actually buy that storefront, set up a magic shop or something. Build a life for himself. Make himself into something Derek could lean on. Someone Derek would worry about.

 

“Are you okay?” Derek asks softly, stepping closer with a frown on his face, and Stiles nods at him, beaming. Because he realizes with a start that he's already there. Derek already worries about him.

 

“Yeah. I'm great, actually.”

 

End.

 


End file.
